|
Mother took me to the window to look at the brilliant sky
where the blazing sky made it light enough to read by.
|
To fix a point for my earliest recollections, let me take the Chicago
fire.
This story has been told and retold to generations of grandchildren
who liked to hear it repeated. I was a very little girl, six years old;
the youngest of the family and had been put to bed as usual early on
that Sunday eve the 8th of October, 1871. Some unusual noise
waked me and I found my big sister and brother gone from their
beds, walking around fully dressed in the middle of the night.
Mother came at my call and to my pleasure said I might get up and
dress for, as there was a great fire on the West Side which
seemed to be coming in our direction[,] the sparks [were being] blown by a strong
wind. Mother took me to the window to look at the brilliant sky
where the blazing sky made it light enough to read by. All night long
people came to our home for refuge, driven from their own homes[,]
and all watched the progress of the flames.
|
|
At that moment I remembered my precious doll Bessie, had been left
in the playroom....
|
Father and our house man helper were carrying the carpets up to the
roof to soak there with water which would put out the sparks, when
just then word came that the water works tower was burning and [there was] no
more water. Father had a carriage and an [express] wagon waiting at
the door and when morning came all of our personal belongings were
loaded on the wagon[,] and Mother, my big sister and I got into the
carriage ready to move; Father and my brother Stuyve on the wagon.
At that moment I remembered my precious doll Bessie, had been left
in the playroom and instan[t]ly I jumped out and ran back to the
house where I picked up Bessie in her crib and carried both away in
my arms.
So, we joined the long procession which was passing; mostly on foot,
people carrying some special treasure in their arms (one woman had
a pig) all bound Northwest.
At the entrance of what is now Lincoln Park we turned West; finally
crossing a bridge over the river to the Northwest side which the fire
never reached; burning itself out in the open unbuilt land of Lincoln
Park.
|
